The Accidentals Series 03: Possession
by speshulduck
Summary: [au] being raped and having to live with it is horrible in and of itself, but having the word "mine" tattooed on you by your rapist is something else entirely. complete. read my other au stories first.
1. chapter one

title: possession  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13. shocked?  
  
summary: being raped and having to live with it is horrible in and of itself, but having the word "mine" tattooed on your stomach by your rapist is something else entirely.  
  
author note: i think i got more work done on this one's sequel while i was gone, but let's start anyhow. short intro chapter, the rest are much longer i promise.  
  
disclaimer: and so then i looked it up online and i found out that i do not in fact own these characters and that they belong to someone named "dick wolf." chung-chung!  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -  
  
- Tuesday August 31st 8:33am -  
  
"So what do you think, Fin?"  
  
"It's a definite possibility."  
  
"They do seem touchier than usual."  
  
"Aren't they always like that?"  
  
"Perhaps, but could last night have been The Night?"  
  
"They did stay here and order-in Chinese, but that's not the most romantic of dinners. Unless it's you we're talkin' about John."  
  
"You cut me deep! Maybe they went home and cuddled up on the couch for a nice movie."  
  
"He's not the most romantic of guys. No flowers yet."  
  
"You know, one day they're going to rush in here late and an absolute mess with a healthy blush on their cheeks and it will answer all our questions."  
  
From her desk Olivia could hear the entire exchange. Her ears were slowly losing their reddish hue and she let the wave of relief bubble up at the thought that Munch hadn't yet mentioned the tango incident of the night before. She met Elliot's gaze and they both rolled their eyes.  
  
"Settle your bet, you mean," she said. She and Elliot preferred to ignore the fact that the rest of the unit had gotten in on it and it was a pool of money now that would go to whoever presented the evidence that they were finally together. "Honestly, don't you guys even remember how to whisper discreetly anymore?"  
  
Elliot snorted from across their joined desks. "The word 'discreet' isn't in their vocabulary, Olivia."  
  
"Besides," Munch added. "You imply we were ever discreet in the first place."  
  
"No, Munch, you just forgot what the words 'Mic On' meant," Elliot laughed.  
  
"Ha ha," he pronounced, not amused.  
  
"Excuse me." The good natured bickering stopped as all four turned to find the source of the timid voice. A young woman stood in the door of the squad room, fingering her black hair nervously. "They said this is where I should report a rape."  
  
- Interview Room -  
  
Olivia set down the cup of coffee in front of the other woman and pulled out a chair to join Elliot. She watched her wrap her hands around the styrofoam cup, her shoulders hunched into her body.  
  
"My name is Sheila Connor," she said hesitantly. "I'm twenty-six. I live in a bit of a rough neighborhood, but I've always been able to handle it. Until last night anyway."  
  
Elliot was scribbling notes so Olivia took up the role of questioner. "What happened last night?"  
  
"I was walking home from the subway station around eight when someone grabbed me from behind." She scratched at her hairline absently. "I think he held a cloth over my mouth and I blacked out. When I woke up I was on a bed and he was there. He was just sitting in this chair watching me." She bit her lip. "When he saw that I was awake he got on top of me without saying anything. He..."  
  
"Raped you?" Olivia filled in. Sheila nodded, one tear spilling down her cheek. "Do you think you can remember his face enough to work with a sketch artist?"  
  
"Yes, but that isn't all," Sheila said. "He didn't use a condom, but he knocked me out again. He must have cleaned me up and when I woke up I was in my apartment." Tears had started to run down her face in earnest.  
  
"I know how scary it must be for him to know where you live," Olivia said. "But you can stay at a shelter for a while--"  
  
"I found this," Sheila sobbed as she stood abruptly, yanking the midriff of her t-shirt up.  
  
Clearly printed in two-inch block letters was the word "MINE." Olivia gapped as Elliot leaned closer, his pen abandoned.  
  
"It's starting to scab," he said, the hints of both anger and amazement in his voice. "He *tattooed* you?"  
  
[tbc] 


	2. chapter two

title: possession - chapter two  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: parental guidance recommended for anyone under 13  
  
author note: the update queen strikes again!! mostly cause that first chapter is embarrassingly short. weird idea though, eh?  
  
disclaimer: so you wanna hear a funny story? they're not mine.  
  
-----  
  
"Let me get this straight. He kidnaps her, he rapes her, and then he tattoos her?" Cragen stared in disbelief at the two detectives standing in front of him. "I've never heard of anything like this."  
  
"Actually I'm surprise no one's ever thought of this before," Elliot commented. "It's a very distinctive signature on an average M.O. Tattoos are permanent; she won't be forgetting her rape any time soon."  
  
"You think he's going serial?" Cragen asked. "He could have specifically targeted her."  
  
"He may have singled her out, but she didn't recognize him at all," Olivia answered. "Even where's there's an imagined relationship the subject of the fantasy usually knows the fantasizer, if only by sight. And we've checked all the databases. This doesn't fit with anything anyone's ever done before here or anywhere else."  
  
"Where's the victim now?"  
  
"Munch and Fin took her to the hospital for a rape kit about an hour ago. He cleaned her pretty well though, so we're not expecting anything," Olivia explained. "They're going to try to get a sample of the ink. Hopefully we'll get something to match it to."  
  
"She given a sketch yet?"  
  
"When she gets back," Elliot said, half shrugging.  
  
"Once we get one let's start canvassing the tattoo parlors in the area. He had to get his ink and training from somewhere." Cragen shuffled through a stack of paper on his desk. "In the meantime, wrap your currents cases as well as you can and then give them to one of the other detectives. If you think he's going to turn serial this has to get top priority."  
  
- 2:10 pm -  
  
Elliot and Olivia emerged from their sixth tattoo place--Mike's Ink by Design--and instantly felt all 92 degrees of the heat wave that was gripping the city. Olivia looked down at her conservative suit as she stripped off the jacket.  
  
"Do I really look like I'm in the market for a tribal armband?" she asked as they headed for the car.  
  
"Well you're certainly not a butterfly kind of girl," Elliot said with an amused grin.  
  
"Thanks, I think," Olivia said as she yanked open the passenger door and slid inside. "So where's this third tattoo of yours?" she asked once he'd done the same.  
  
"Ah, well, only two people have ever seen it," Elliot said, his amused grin turning slightly wicked.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Kathy and the guy who inked it."  
  
"I don't even want to know," she groaned. She leaned over to crank up the AC to full blast. "Don't you sign the papers Friday?"  
  
He grimaced. "Yeah. Get me completely toasted afterwards, would you?"  
  
She patted him lightly on the shoulder. "Hey, what are friends for?"  
  
His cell phone started to ring and he pulled it out. "Stabler." She watched him nod and "yeah" his way through the conversation. Finally, "We'll be there in twenty minutes." He flipped his phone shut.  
  
"That was Munch," he said. "One of the artists at a shop matched the sketch. We're meeting them back at the station to work him over. Probably get a line-up too."  
  
"That was quick," Olivia said, frowning. "Could this one really be that easy?"  
  
"Wouldn't it be nice?"  
  
"Too nice."  
  
"Cynic."  
  
- Interrogation Room -  
  
- 2:56pm -  
  
Elliot closely scrutinized the kid in front of him. He leaned back against the window and studied, hoping to get the guy agitated. He had to repress his urge to smile; it was working quite well. His hands were pressed flat against the table top, exposing the stars that covered the back of them. The motif continued up both arms, but other full color designs were woven in between the stars. It was rather impressive artwork really. Still, his hands were trembling and he split his nervous gaze evenly among the mirrored glass, the table, and Elliot. His eyes had begun to shift faster and faster. Right about now would probably be good.  
  
Elliot ducked his chin slightly as he glanced towards the one-way glass behind which he knew his partner was waiting. Seconds later the door banged open with an echoing thud, startling their suspect into jumping an inch out of his chair. He'd barely recovered before Olivia had stomped to the table, slammed down a folder, and sat down. God but he loved this job.  
  
"Alexander Marcus?" she demanded.  
  
"Uh, most people call me Xan," he stuttered. His knuckles were already white from gripping the table edge.  
  
"Where were you last night, Alex?" she asked, completely ignoring him.  
  
"At home," he said. Olivia had his complete terrified attention now and Elliot decided to hang back for now.  
  
"Where's home?" she inquired, the force of her voice obviously scaring the guy so badly that Elliot almost felt sorry for him.  
  
"Apartment above the parlor."  
  
"You sure you were there? You got anyone to corroborate that?"  
  
"No, my girlfriend was out." He was definitely sweating bullets.  
  
"You got no one who can say where you were last night?" Olivia was glaring in full force now. "You look a little scared to me. He look scared to you?"  
  
She didn't turn to look at Elliot but the kid did. He nodded slowly and didn't say a word. He stretched his arms out to the side, then folded them behind his head so his Marines tattoo was in view. The suspect's eyes widened and he quickly looked back to Olivia.   
  
"See Alex, we have a sketch of someone that looks a lot like you." Olivia took it out and tossed it down in front of him. "Now since you were at home, this couldn't be you, because this man raped a woman last night."  
  
"It ain't me!" he exclaimed.  
  
"So your evil twin tattooed her afterwards too?" Olivia asked derisively.  
  
"He might have," he said, panic evident. "Last time I checked Bobby was in prison, but he might have gotten out."  
  
Elliot decided this might be a good time to interject. "Wait, you really do have an evil twin?"  
  
"Not so much evil as slightly twisted. We had a falling out when he went to jail the last time," he explained. He visibly relaxed as the anger drained from the room.  
  
"He sexually assaulted my ex-girlfriend."  
  
Eliot felt his partner's eyes and he met her surprised expression with one of his own.  
  
-----  
  
"It was too much to ask, I suppose," Olivia commented once they were in the hallway.  
  
"Yeah, one easy case every now and then would be nice," Elliot agreed. "Nice work by the way."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"You wanna pull evil twin's records or shall I?"  
  
"I'll stay with 'Xan' here and get as much as I can. Hey," she said to Fin as he approached. He didn't bother returning the greeting.  
  
"I was checking Alexander Marcus' records when I came across something interesting," he said. "Turns out he has an identical twin brother convicted of--you'll never guess."  
  
"Sexual assault," Elliot said.  
  
"Ding ding," Fin said, giving the sarcastic smile Elliot was accustomed to seeing on Munch's face.  
  
"Alexander told us," Olivia said quickly. "Said it was his ex-girlfriend, so they had a falling out. Which means he doesn't know if he's still in prison or not.  
  
Fin was ready with the answer to the implied question. "Robert Marcus was paroled two weeks ago for good behavior." He handed over the folder he was carrying. "Munch and I are on the way to question Alex's live-in girlfriend. We're hoping she saw something."  
  
"We'll check with his parole officer first?" Elliot suggested. "Then go to the address listed and see if we can't pick him up."  
  
"Sounds like a plan," Olivia agreed. "I'll ask someone else to finish with Alexander and we can go."  
  
-----  
  
The parole office was noise and unorganized. It was large as far as parole offices go, but the sound assaulted Elliot's ears and the chaos made him cringe. Special Victims may border on chaotic occasionally, but it was always organized chaos and was usually gone once that particular case was done. Here though the mess clung and he wasn't sure how anyone could work in such an environment. He studied the workers while Olivia politely asked a secretary for directions.  
  
The intradepartmental politics were fully on display he instantly noticed. Here and there a couple workers were toiling diligently and a few were talking into phones. There were several people at the open filing cabinets that covered one wall, but they were all talking as the shifted through papers. One man was shamelessly flirting with two women at once, but back off as he pointed at papers on his desk. The woman displayed some reluctance but were soon at another desk laughing together.  
  
"Okay," Olivia said, brushing his shoulder with hers as she passed him. "That's him." She started to make her way around the cluttered desks towards the flirtatious man who was now bent over the folders of his desk.  
  
"Him?" Elliot asked in his most contemptuous voice. He'd started to follow but she stopped short to look at him.  
  
"Yeah why? You know him?" She seemed genuinely curious.  
  
"No but he was just flirting with--"  
  
Olivia cut him off with a groan. "Loosen up, Elliot," she instructed as she resumed her path.  
  
"--two women at once," he said, knowing she could hear him. She didn't stop though so he followed and tried to shake off his assumptions. He tried, he really did, but the assessing and then frankly appreciating look the man gave his partner once she'd stopped in front of his desk was enough to make his blood boil. He stormed up behind her, glaring through narrowed eyes.  
  
"Daniel Adler?" Olivia asked.  
  
"That's me," the man confirmed. "But you can call me Danny."  
  
Olivia nodded briefly before continuing. "I'm Detective Olivia Benson. This is my partner Elliot Stabler. We're from the Special Victims Unit."  
  
"How can I help you detectives?" Adler asked with an easy grin that spoke to years of experience charming the pants off anything that moved. Elliot menaced his best in the direction of the blond man, but he didn't so much as look in Elliot's direction. After a moment of scrutiny he was forced to admit the man was probably very good looking in most women's standards.  
  
"We need to ask you about one of parolees," Olivia said. "Robert Marcus."  
  
"Oh, Bobby?" Adler asked. He looked down with a somewhat rueful smile. "Actually I was just working on his parole violation paperwork. He hasn't called in a week and he's not answering his phone. He's a smart guy, so I'm going to go down to his place in about fifteen minutes to threaten him with the papers if you want to tag along."  
  
"He's looking pretty good for a rape case we have right now," Olivia explained.  
  
"So this is a bit more pressing than a parole violation," Elliot added angrily.  
  
Olivia turned her head to glare with her quiet reprove. "Down boy," she muttered. Then she said louder, "Elliot why don't you go get the car? We'll drive over there right now."  
  
Elliot fought the compulsion to growl in the manner of a possessive dog and settled for stomping away instead. He knew she was just trying to prevent him from doing something stupid, like hitting the cocky son-of-a-bitch. It still burned like a rejection. Not that he even had the right to feel rejected. Liv was his partner, his best friend, his roommate, the woman he danced with every night. He had no right to get jealous or possessive; she was free to flirt with whomever she liked.  
  
"So," he heard the arrogant prick ask. "What are you doing Friday night?" Elliot's heart practically stopped. He knocked a couple folders off a desk as he walked by so he could stop to hear Olivia's response.  
  
"Oh, I kinda have plans."  
  
"'Kinda?'" came the smarmily hopeful reply.  
  
"Definitely have plans." Elliot grinned wildly.  
  
"How about Saturday?" There went his heart again.  
  
"Um, I ah," Olivia stumbled over her words. Was she actually casting around for an excuse? He slowly picked up the last folder, straining to hear her.  
  
"Danny, I'm sorry. The thing is, I'm living with someone right now."  
  
Elliot's widest smile split his face. His day was definitely looking up.  
  
[tbc]  
  
[grins crazily and runs for the hills, ducking any thrown objects] 


	3. chapter three

title: possession - chapter three  
  
author: duck!!!! (i've decided my name's more of a command than an animal)  
  
rating: p to the g-izzle, one to the thrizzle (that's pg-13 for all you non-gangsta types)  
  
author note: so, you wanna go shotgun a beer?  
  
disclaimer: not mine except danny, and i don't particularly want him.  
  
-----  
  
Danny Adler had never had any particular trouble getting a woman into bed once he'd set his sights on her. Or at the very least on a date. His rugged good looks and charming personality--described that way by the women --always worked their magic together and if he'd wanted, he could probably have a different woman every night.  
  
He wasn't stupid though and he didn't. He always used protection and was cautious about the women he picked up. There were enough crazy people in this city for him to be wary. At 28 he knew he had the rest of a good life ahead of him and wasn't about to have it screwed over by the wrong woman. He'd even considered long-term relationships with a few of the more recent girls. He loved them all though--at least for the night--and almost every single one fell for him after ten minutes.  
  
Which is why this Olivia Benson was a complete mystery. She'd had no rings on her fingers, so when the beautiful detective had arrived he'd turned on the charm full-blast. Her partner, an edgy and possessive excuse for a man, had reacted badly, but she'd sent him to get their car and Danny had zeroed in for the kill.  
  
And she'd said no. Not really no per se, just that she was living with someone. He knew what that implied, but it didn't necessarily mean it was some form of significant other. Hell, the way that Stabler character had acted it could even have been him. Danny had noticed the way he'd lingered to hear her response, pretending to pick up folders or something. He'd pestered Olivia as they left but hadn't gotten any further.  
  
So now here he was in the back of their police-issue sedan, listening to their light banter. Stabler seemed to have forgotten entirely that Danny existed, and Olivia was only asking him occasional question. How well did he know Marcus? Not well at all. Did Marcus know how to ink? He might. Did Marcus have any contact with a woman named Sheila Connor? Not that Danny knew.  
  
He sighed as they pulled up in front of the apartment building Bobby lived in. He'd hoped to be a big help, maybe dazzle the woman in the front seat with his knowledge. Nothing doing. Perhaps if he were the one to capture Bobby she'd be impressed. It sounded pathetic, even in his mind, but women usually loved that kind of hero thing.  
  
He exited the car on the driver's side and ignored the death glare he was getting from Stabler. How that crazy-ass man ever became a detective..he dropped that train of thought. The pair was already entering the building as he started to move. They were practically walking in step. Danny had to jog to catch up. By the time he did they were at the foot of the stairs and Olivia was on her phone as they began to climb.  
  
"Great," she said as she flipped it shut. "Cragen said we have the go-ahead to enter his apartment if he's doesn't answer. He's already called for CSU."  
  
Stabler stopped at the second floor. Bobby lived in the third apartment down, left side. "You want to go find the super or shall I?" he asked.  
  
"I'll do it," Olivia offered, turning to go back down to the first floor. Danny moved to let her pass but she stopped in front of him. "Go with Elliot. If you're the one knocking on the door he won't think anything's out of the ordinary."  
  
Danny nodded and watched her walk away. Nothing to complain about there, he smirked to himself. When she'd rounded the last corner he turned to face her partner and it occurred to him that maybe enjoying the view had been a bad idea. Now he had a face full of angry cop.  
  
"I don't like you," the other man said slowly. There was a dangerous glint in his blue eyes and Danny fought off the wave of anger that surfaced. This man had no right to treat him like this.  
  
"I don't care," he sneered back. "Olivia seems to like me just fine and that's about all I care about."  
  
"You stay away from her," Stabler warned, taking another step down so he was only inches from Danny's face.  
  
"You got some sort of prior claim I should know about?" Danny asked with a laugh. "That kind of woman wouldn't give you the time of day if she weren't your partner."  
  
"And you wouldn't know what to do with her if she took you up on your offer for dinner." The older man's eyes narrowed at him. "Olivia's far too mature for a punk kid like you who thinks he can use her up for one night and leave a note on the pillow the next morning. You're nothing more than a bad one night stand waiting to happen."  
  
"That's funny, every woman I've been with has seemed to appreciate my skills," Danny retorted. "You jealous?"  
  
Stabler's hands had reached out and grabbed the front of his collared shirt before he'd realized it. "You are a boy. In my world boys stay away from women or else they get hurt by men. Keep your eyes and all other body parts off her, get it?" There was such a fierce look in his eyes that Danny's own widened in genuine fear as he nodded.  
  
"Good," he said as he released him. "Now let's find your parolee before he rapes anyone else."  
  
Danny straightened his shirt before following Stabler down the hall to Bobby's apartment. This guy was definitely crazy, and most likely about his partner if it wasn't a clinical insanity. Danny fingered the reassuring weight of the gun in it's holster at his waist. He didn't think he'd have cause to use it, but this guy was definitely on the verge of snapping. He joined him in front of the door and tried his best to avoid eye contact.  
  
"Well, you gonna knock?" he asked after a few seconds.  
  
"Yeah," Danny replied quickly. He banged loudly on the door. "Bobby? It's Danny, Danny Adler. Your parole officer."  
  
They could hear faint noises coming from inside the apartment. Danny knocked again. "Bobby I need to talk to you. You've violated your parole and if you don't talk to me you're going back to jail." He strained to listen but he couldn't hear anything else from inside the apartment. Next to him Stabler had pulled out his gun and made a move to push him aside with his free hand.  
  
"You know how to use that gun of yours?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, best in the office," Danny replied snidely.  
  
"I certainly hope so," Stabler said as he repositioned himself in front of the door.  
  
"What are you doing?" Danny asked, but it was too late. Pieces of the door frame splintered in every direction as the detective kicked down the door. He moved fluidly into the apartment his gun extended in front of him.  
  
"Elliot!" Danny turned around but Stabler didn't stop. Olivia was walking up with a short man in tow.  
  
"We heard something," Danny tried to explain but Olivia brushed past him, pulling out her gun. She moved with the same grace that her partner had and Danny stared openly as she entered the apartment. He heaved a sigh and pulled out his own gun. He'd only ever once had occasion to use it when one of his parolees had gotten out of hand, but he hadn't been lying when he told Stabler he was the best shot in the office.  
  
He edged through the open doorway, his weapon extended like a shield. In front of him the two detectives were sweeping the small apartment effectively. There wasn't a movement wasted between them as they moved together, never facing the same direction. Watching their nonverbal coordination was almost like watching a ballet dancer's elegant performance. No wonder the guy was possessive.  
  
"Liv!" Stabler called and she turned to face the direction he was looking.  
  
"Oh no," she said. His curiosity getting the better of him, Danny decided to move in to see what they were talking about.  
  
"Not another one," she said as Danny came up behind them. At first he saw nothing out of the ordinary, but his jaw dropped as he caught sight of what was on the bed. His throat closed up and the dizzying urge to be sick overwhelmed him. On the bed lay a woman, completely exposed with a fresh tattoo on her stomach.  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -  
  
- 8:14pm -  
  
"He must have been there when we knocked," Elliot said as he finished recounting what had happened. Olivia stood next to him, arms crossed and head bowed. Seeing the victim on the bed like that had been too much for the parole officer. He'd thrown up in the bathroom. Ever since then Olivia had been contemplating her own reaction. The woman hadn't been dead, but she had been raped and tattooed. A certain level of insulation had long since crept into her emotional responses to it. She still felt for the victims, she just didn't have that gut-checking reaction anymore.  
  
Price of being a cop, she supposed. She was so used to seeing the same thing day in and day out that it hardly fazed her to come across the evidence that the dredges of society tended to leave behind. Perhaps the problem was that the victims were starting to mount up to just that: evidence. It was a horribly dehumanizing process that had helped her deal with the nature of the crimes at first, but after so many years of it...she just wasn't sure where it left her anymore.  
  
She listened half-heartedly as Elliot went on about the particulars of the scene. Marcus hadn't had time to clean up from the rape so there was DNA for them to match, on which the lab was hard at work as they spoke. He'd left his ink behind, but had taken his gun. They'd hadn't found any sort of receipt for their purchase, so they were just going to assume for the time being it was stolen, which means he could have more. As for the victim, she was in the hospital. Unconscious. He'd beaten this victim in the head. Doctors were waiting for her to wake up on her own.  
  
"Everyone go home; get some sleep while you can," Cragen ordered once Elliot had finished his report. "I want you all back bright and early tomorrow morning. He's not going to stop now that he's gotten away from us once."  
  
The group disbanded as everyone floated off to their respective desks. Munch and Fin quickly headed out the door, but she lingered over her files. "You ready to go home?" Elliot asked her after a moment. She nodded without looking up and rearranged a few things on her desk. "Something wrong?"  
  
"I don't know," she confessed. "I think I've stopped feeling things."  
  
"You mean you're numb to it?"  
  
"Yeah, and the parole officer puking at the scene only threw that into sharp relief." She sighed as she looked up into his concerned eyes. "Makes me question my humanity."  
  
"Don't question yourself just because Danny boy couldn't hold his lunch," Elliot snorted. She narrowed her eyes, assessing him.  
  
"You really don't like him, do you?"  
  
"What gave it away? He's an arrogant little snot who thinks he can jump into whomever's bed he pleases." Elliot picked up a few folders and set them off to the side of his desk. "And I'm certainly not about to let him touch you after the way he looked at you."  
  
"Elliot, I don't need your protection." It was an old argument on which they were verging; Elliot had a tendency to play big brother that was annoyingly sweet. Danny was the first guy he'd done it to in years that had probably deserved it though, the only notable exceptions being the stalkers she seemed to attract like flies from their cases. Honestly she really hadn't had anyone display interest, or had the time to pursue it.  
  
"I know you don't," he ruefully as he rubbed the back of his neck. "But that doesn't mean I don't feel the need to protect you." He came around the side of their desks. "Forgive me?"  
  
"I inevitably do, against my better judgment I might add." They shared a warm look before moving for the exit. Behind them, safely hidden in the shadows of his doorway, their captain smiled.  
  
[tbc] 


	4. chapter four

title: possession - chapter four  
  
author duck!!  
  
rating: tv-14. nyah.  
  
author note: muchas gracias to the ever fabulous kukrae :)  
  
disclaimer: i take full responsibility for possessive!elliot, but every other iteration of these characters is alas not mine.  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -  
  
- Thursday September 2nd 7:58am -  
  
Elliot sipped his coffee and stared at the second hand of the clock on the wall. It seemed to tick slower than usual and he tapped his finger impatiently on the desk. Yesterday had been a big blank as far as the case had gone. They'd gone out canvassing the street looking for Marcus and had only come up with two hits, both of which turned out to be his brother. It had been a waste of a day, so Cragen decided they'd start over from the beginning. Elliot was waiting for Danny Adler to come it for a round of questioning that he hoped would help produce more than it had the last time around.  
  
They were also waiting for Alexander Marcus and his girlfriend, but Elliot couldn't care less about them. He'd had time to let his anger stew in the heat of the city yesterday and he couldn't wait to get another few shots in on the parole officer. He'd have to do it quickly though; he and Olivia had drawn the girlfriend assignment while Munch and Fin were the lucky ones with Danny.  
  
"If you're thinking about taking on Danny again, don't," a soft voice cautioned in his ear. He jumped and twisted to face a smirking Olivia.  
  
"But--"  
  
"Don't think I won't rip you a new one, Stabler," she warned. She grinned as she sat down in her chair. "Your recidivism rate's worse than a sex offender."  
  
"Now that hurts," he said, frowning. "How do you know that's what I was thinking about anyway?"  
  
"Come on, Elliot, do I look like I was born yesterday? Besides I think I can handle a guy like Danny Adler."  
  
"Hey, what'd he do anyway?" Fin asked. Elliot realized both Munch and Fin had been eavesdropping. "We gotta talk to him. At least tell us what he's like."  
  
"He tried to get in my pants," Olivia said, laughing. "Elliot got a little jealous."  
  
"Did not," he retorted. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Well, maybe a little over-protective. But I didn't like the way he was looking at you."  
  
He watched Munch and Fin trade glances before they both looked at him. Over Munch's shoulder he saw Alexander Marcus and a young woman enter the squad room. "Beat him up for me," he said as he stood. "That's our cue." Olivia turned around, then nodded as she faced him again.  
  
"Munch, would you get Mr. Marcus some coffee, then take him to Cragen's office?" Elliot asked.  
  
"You forgot to say please, twinkle toes," Munch mumbled as he walked by. He gave the man a warning look and Munch shrugged. "Sure."  
  
- Interview Room -  
  
"So, Cassandra," Olivia started. "How long have you and Alexander been dating?"  
  
"A few months." The girl pushed her purple hair out of her eyes. "I just moved in last month."  
  
"How old are you?" Elliot asked.  
  
"Twenty."  
  
"You do know that Alex is twenty-eight?" he continued.  
  
"Age doesn't matter," the girl shrugged. She twisted one of the rings on her finger and glared back through dark eyelashes. "He says he loves me. It's nice to hear."  
  
"Did he ever mention his twin brother?" Elliot asked.  
  
"Once or twice, just that he had one."  
  
"Did you ever meet his brother?"  
  
"Bobby was in prison."  
  
Olivia jumped back in after having observed the girl's body language for a while. "Until a couple weeks ago, yes. Did you ever seen him around your apartment?"  
  
"No." Her eyes shifted downward to her fingers and Olivia met Elliot's brief gaze.  
  
"Are you sure?" she probed. "Anything you tell us can only help."  
  
"He knocked on the door a few days ago," she finally admitted. "I thought it was Xan at first. I thought maybe he'd lost his key."  
  
"And then what happened?" Olivia asked gently. She could tell where this was going. The girl's body language exuded victim.  
  
"He came inside and I knew it wasn't Xan." Her hands waved in front of her face. "He didn't have the tats." Her left arm crossed defensively over her body and her right thumbnail quickly found her mouth. "He uh, he said I had something that he needed."  
  
"What did he do to you?" Elliot asked, sympathy suffusing his tone.  
  
"He raped me," she confessed. Her tone was as flat as her eyes.  
  
"Why didn't you tell the other detectives?"  
  
"Because cops have never helped before," she spat out.  
  
Olivia sat down on the table next to the girl. "Cassandra, has something like this ever happened to you before?"  
  
"Every day of my life from the moment I was twelve."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Daddy dearest. Bastard finally keeled over of a heart attack when I was seventeen. Ran to the city. Haven't looked back since."  
  
Elliot assessed her, compassion in his eyes. "Did Bobby take anything from the apartment?"  
  
"Yeah, a tattoo gun and some ink." The girl had yet to shed a tear. "I told Xan one of his friends had borrowed them."  
  
"He doesn't know about it?"  
  
"No. I couldn't tell him. Not after what had happened before. He's a good guy and it's not his fault his brother keeps fucking up his relationships." She finally looked up. "Please don't tell him," she begged.  
  
"I think you need to, Cassandra," Olivia advised gently. "Things like this...you need someone to talk to them about. I'm going to give you the number for Victim's Services okay? They can help get you counseling."  
  
"Never needed any help before," she pronounced venomously. "Don't need none now."  
  
- Interrogation Room -  
  
John could instantly see why Elliot disliked Danny Adler. When he came in his eyes had instantly singled out every woman in the place. He'd probably even ranked them. His eyes had found the empty pair of desks next to where they stood and swept over Olivia's pictures enough to figure it was hers. John'd had to resist the urge to laugh aloud when he'd spied the picture she had of her and Elliot sitting next to the picture of her mother.   
  
John himself had actually taken it on day when everyone was in a playful mood after breaking open a particularly high profile case. They'd all gone out for drinks afterwards and gotten completely trashed. John had never seen the pair of them so relaxed, so he'd whipped out the digital camera he'd brought along just in case anything blackmail-worthy had happened. Olivia had her arm slung around the back of Elliot's neck and they were both grinning like fools. God only knew what had possessed them to wear the clothes they were in either.  
  
Suffice it to say Danny had taken one look at the picture and all but turned green. The tips of his ears however had turned a distinctive shade of red. He'd quickly mumbled something about getting this over, so Fin had led him back to the interrogation room. John had followed after a picking up his notebook.  
  
"So, Danny," John said as he sat down across the table from the blond man. "How long have you been a parole officer?"  
  
"A few years. I joined up out of college," he explained.  
  
Fin flipped open his file as he leaned against the table next to Danny. "Says here you applied for the academy."  
  
"Yeah," Danny said, shifting nervously in his chair. "I didn't get in, so I figured I'd go somewhere else where I could do some good."  
  
"Working to rehabilitate ex-cons is a tough job, don't sell yourself short, kid," Fin said amiably.   
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Good. Now, about Bobby Marcus," Fin continued. "How long have you known him?"  
  
"He only got out a couple weeks ago, so it hasn't been too long. I set him up in the apartment, got him a job."  
  
John jumped back in. "Did anything seem to indicate to you that he would start doing something like this? Anything in his behavior?"  
  
"No," Danny said, shaking his head. "He seemed genuinely ready to re-enter society. I deal with so many that aren't I was just grateful to have a guy who'd only been in a few years."  
  
"Do you know where he might have learned how to tattoo?" John asked.  
  
"I checked his records. He moved to L.A. for a few months about six years ago. He might have learned there. When he came back he stayed with his brother until he went to prison." Danny shrugged. "He could have learned in L.A. or from his brother."  
  
"Which do you think is more likely?" Fin asked. John watched him out of the corner of his eye and felt the corner of his mouth tug upward in a half grin. Busting this guy's balls was going to be fun.  
  
"Me?" Danny asked, surprise evident on his face that they were asking his opinion. "I think from his brother. Bobby's a smart guy. Even if his brother weren't actively teaching him, all he'd have to do is watch for a while and he could probably get the hang of it."  
  
"Yeah, he doesn't have to pick up the artistry to tattoo a word on someone's stomach," Fin said with a small smile. Danny grinned back and John marveled at the wonderful job his partner was doing to put this guy at ease. "The rape too, doesn't take a lot of artistry." Here it came, John thought gleefully.  
  
"Oh hell no," Danny agreed. "Bobby just didn't ever strike me as comfortable around women. He just didn't have that touch, you know?"  
  
"You could tell that?" John asked.  
  
"Oh sure."  
  
"You got that touch, Danny?" John gave a slight leer. "You know."  
  
Danny's smile widened. "In spades, my friend, in spades."  
  
John shared a glance with Fin that clearly established Fin's incredulity that the guy was falling for it. "A ladies man, I take it?" Fin asked as he turned back to Danny.  
  
"Let's just say I've never lacked for female attention," Danny said, grinning suggestively. "That Olivia though, she's pretty frigid."  
  
Classic, John thought. He not only falls into the trap he actually digs himself deeper before it's even sprung. "Between you and me," he said, leaning across to table as he lowered his voice. "She needs to find herself a man. Fast."  
  
"Her partner seems pretty possessive," Danny said, taking in both Fin and John in one glance. "They're not together?"  
  
"Who, Elliot?" John asked, letting skepticism creep into his voice. "Oh no. He's her best friend, more like an older brother type. We all feel that way really."  
  
Danny's face froze for a moment before he visibly forced himself to relax. "You all feel what way?"  
  
"She's like a little sister to all of us," Fin said, leaning in closer to Danny's face. "You know, if anyone treated her badly--maybe disrespected her with a one-night stand or something--the three of us would probably find him. We're cops, we know how to make things look like accidents."  
  
John almost feel sorry for the kid. He knew he'd never want a face-full of Fin spouting thinly-veiled threats. His partner was downright scary if you were on the receiving end of one of his glares. Still, in all likelihood he did deserve it.  
  
"You weren't going to do anything like that though, Danny," he said, watching him over the top of his glasses. "Were you?"  
  
"N-no," Danny stuttered. "I mean, I asked her if she'd like to get dinner. But I wasn't going to...you know."  
  
"Sleep with her?" Fin asked. "What, she not good enough for you?" His glare was out in full force now.  
  
"No! She's great." Danny was staring at Fin in wide-eyed terror. "I wasn't going to have a one-night stand or anything."  
  
"Good," John said. "Just checking. We have to defend our own."  
  
Danny nodded and eyed Fin cautiously as he launched himself off the table and stalk to the window, arms crossed. "Is there anything else you guys need from me?"  
  
"No," John said, giving him an friendly smile. "You've been a big help."  
  
"So I can go?"  
  
"Sure. It's not like you're under arrest or anything," John laughed. Danny got shakily to his feet and practically bolted for the door.  
  
[tbc]  
  
the picture i described is a real one, from tv guide. if you wanna see it it's at http://www.geocities.com/lcars1013/cm7.jpeg much love to kukrae for sending it to me :) 


	5. chapter five

title: possession - chapter five  
  
author: duck...!  
  
rating: pg-13. werd.  
  
author note: i've just started making up streets and stuff now. short lil chapter for now.  
  
disclaimer: after all this time i'm sure you know....not mine.  
  
-----  
  
Danny Adler had never been so scared in his life. First he'd had to deal with one overprotective partner, now he had to deal with his friends. How the hell had these psychopaths gotten past the rigorous academy screening? They did work in sex crimes; maybe working here had cracked their sanity. It was a plausible explanation, he mused to himself as he tried to appear unconcerned. He'd reached the door and was watching the really crazy one, Fin, out of the corner of his eye. He'd been so nice at first, then he'd started glaring and menacing and Danny had panicked.  
  
But now he was home free. He could leave and never have to talk to these people again. Hell, he was probably lucky Olivia hadn't taken him up on his offer for dinner; she was probably just as screwed up. Besides, who knew what kind of sexual perversions she'd have from working here. He just hoped they caught Bobby soon so they'd stop having to pester him.  
  
He opened the door with a sigh of relief. He inhaled a deep breath, feeling like a new man. Maybe he'd be careful from now on with women. He loved them for the night yes, but how many of them actually knew that?  
  
The process of turning over a new leaf was rudely interrupted as he ran into another solid body. He almost fell backwards but a hand reached out and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, saving him from a potentially nasty fall. He looked up and nearly screamed.  
  
"Why Danny, I'm sorry," Stabler grinned, showing all his teeth. "I didn't see you there." He let go and Danny almost fell down again.  
  
"I'm sorry too," Danny got out as he started to edge sideways. "I wasn't looking where I was going."  
  
"I'm sure you'll be more careful from now on," Stabler said, still grinning madly. Danny had gone from scared to terrified.  
  
"Yessir," he said as he turned tail and fled.  
  
Elliot turned around still smiling and poked his head into the interrogation room. "Lovely performance guys. But Liv is never going to find out about this, right?"  
  
"We'll keep it under tighter wraps than Groom Lake," John confirmed.  
  
- 11:00am -  
  
"Well," Elliot said as he reviewed Cassandra's statement. "At least he didn't tattoo her."  
  
"Which is strange," Olivia added. She looked around at the rest of the SVU team that had assembled to discuss their case. Cragen was adding a picture of Cassandra to the board next to Sheila, their first victim, while the four detectives stood in a half circle around it. Their row of victims had expanded to three.  
  
"Yeah," Fin interjected. "Marcus seemed to like to screw up his brother's life."  
  
"I would have thought that it started with her," Olivia said, nodding. "His brother did all but disown him. It seems like claiming his girlfriend as 'mine' would have been a good way to get back at him."  
  
"Are we sure he didn't tattoo her at all?" Munch asked. "She didn't even tell us the first time around that she'd been raped."  
  
"We asked," Elliot said. "She even showed us her stomach. Pierced navel, but no tattoo."  
  
"So he's escalating," Cragen said. "Went from sexual assault a few years ago to rape to rape with violence. We've got to find him before he rapes anyone else."  
  
"May be too late," Elliot commented. "I just got off the phone with a hospital downtown. Said they had a rape victim with a fresh tattoo on her stomach. Could be victim number four."  
  
"Did they ask her about it?" Cragen asked.  
  
"She's unconscious. If it is Marcus he beat her worse than he beat the third victim." Olivia sighed in frustration. The woman she and Elliot had found in Marcus's apartment was still in the hospital recovering from a concussion. If this one had been beaten worse she might not wake up for a couple days.  
  
"Benson, Stabler. Go to the hospital," Cragen ordered. "Munch and Fin. Go over the LUDs from Marcus's place. Find out where he was calling and find out why."  
  
- Breezeway Hospital -  
  
- 462 East 3rd Street -  
  
- 11:56 am -  
  
"Your victim came about an hour and a half ago," the attending nurse told Elliot. "A guy brought her in, said he'd found her outside."  
  
"Where is he now?" Elliot asked, glancing around. He caught Olivia's eye and nodded her over. She'd been studying the victim's test reports.  
  
"He left," she answered. "Said he was just being a good Samaritan."  
  
"Was he this man?" Elliot asked, pulling out Bobby Marcus's mug shot.  
  
The nurse's eyes widened when she realized it was a police photo. "Yes, that's him but-"  
  
"Ma'am, this is very important. Did anyone see how he left?" Elliot interrupted. "Car, bus, walking?"  
  
"I think he walked. I was just going out to my lunch break when he came in with her. He was leaving when I came back," she said.  
  
"That was when?" Olivia asked as she joined them. "Marcus?" she asked Elliot. He nodded.  
  
"I got back about an hour ago," the nurse said. "He was heading east towards the river."  
  
"Away from the other crimes," Olivia noted, turning to Elliot. He nodded.  
  
"We forced him to move areas," he said. "But he couldn't have carried her very far."  
  
"There's a few buildings of apartments just down the street," the nurse suggested. "We get people from there all the time. Mostly drug overdoses and gun shot wounds."  
  
"Big gang area?" Elliot asked.  
  
"Yes and no," the nurse said, frowning. "There are gangs yes, but they don't have a complete hold on the area. There's only a couple buildings involved in that."  
  
"Narrows down the search area a bit," Olivia commented.  
  
"We should get back to the precinct," Elliot said. "Maybe organize a canvas from there."  
  
"Good idea," Olivia said. "Thanks for all your help. When she wakes up could you give us a call?" She handed the nurse her card.  
  
"I'll put a note on her charts," the nurse said.  
  
[tbc] 


	6. chapter six

title: possession - chapter six  
  
author: duck (all the good ones end in "-uck")  
  
rating: pg-13. one day i'll write one that's not, i promise.  
  
author note: i am one person, unless you count my multiple personalities. or kukrae shouting ideas from the back.  
  
disclaimer: mine? no. we know this by now.  
  
------  
  
"So, Elliot," Olivia said in her most conversational tone. Her partner glanced at her from the driver's seat. "I was just sitting at my desk this morning, typing up Cassandra's statement. You know, while you were off helping Cragen with Alex?"  
  
Elliot nodded slowly as he came to a stop at a red light. "Yeah?"  
  
"Well, I was just sitting there and I turn around and see Danny Adler running by the doors to the squad room from the direction of the interrogation rooms." She eyed him carefully.  
  
"Oh, really?" He was obviously feigning his unconcern. She decided to play along.  
  
"I don't suppose you'd know why he screamed when I called his name, would you?" Danny hadn't screamed exactly; it had been more like a startled yelp. Still, it was curious and demanded investigation.  
  
He considered her for a moment. "No clue, but if I'd been in an interrogation room with John for more than five minutes I'd probably run screaming too."  
  
"Right, well, I figured I'd ask him," she said. He cleared his throat and turned back to the road as the light turned green.  
  
"And what'd he say?" Oh that's definitely nervousness, Stabler, she grinned to herself.  
  
"He said to ask you," she said.  
  
  
  
"Did he now?"  
  
She arched an eyebrow at him, hoping to coax out whatever he was holding back. "Now, I don't know why since you said you were with Cragen at the time."  
  
"Yep, in one of the interrogation rooms with Alex," he confirmed quickly.  
  
"I don't suppose you'd know then why Danny was last seen throwing up on the sidewalk outside?"  
  
"Throwing up, huh?" Elliot shook his head in pity. Olivia could tell he was fighting a smile. "Poor kid. No idea."  
  
"Uh-huh," she said in a tone of disbelief.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -  
  
- Thursday September 2nd 12:39pm -  
  
Elliot strode through the doors first, Olivia trailing in his wake. Munch was just hanging up the phone and turned to greet them. He almost snickered; it looked like Elliot was running from Olivia.  
  
"We've got a new local area for our guy," Elliot announced.  
  
"And we've got one better," Munch countered. "Just got off the phone with a tattoo artist. Said a guy fitting his description came in to buy some ink. He was warned by a friend of his from Marcus's old stomping grounds."  
  
"Must've run out," Olivia said, brightening visibly. "Did he sell it to him?"  
  
"He told him he couldn't sell it to him right there, but that he'd have it delivered that afternoon to his place," Munch said, smiling. "Guy's an ex-Marine and he said he's willing to help any way possible."  
  
"We have an address?" Elliot asked, closing the distance to Munch's desk.  
  
"An apartment down on 3rd Street," Munch confirmed. He waved a piece of paper in the air. "Got it right here."  
  
"3rd Street," Elliot said. He grabbed the paper from Munch's hand. "This must be in the apartments down the street from the hospital."  
  
"And we thought he was a smart guy," Olivia said, shaking her head.  
  
"Hey, Bill Clinton was a Rhodes Scholar; look what he managed to accomplish," Munch grinned.  
  
- Fall-Out Shelter Tattoos and Piercing -  
  
- 2:34pm -  
  
"Excuse me," Elliot said. The woman behind the reception counter looked up from her magazine.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked in an indifferent tone. "If you want a tattoo you'll have to make an appointment. Piercings are done on a walk-in basis." She gave Olivia a once over. "We specialize in body piercing and as you can see from the walls, military art and tribal designs. We can do anything by flash and--"  
  
Elliot whipped out his badge. "We're here to speak to Tony."  
  
"Right," the girl continued in the same tone. She turned and disappeared behind a curtain.  
  
"Helpful," Olivia commented, imitating her nonchalant voice. Elliot grinned at her.  
  
"We're this close, Liv," he said.  
  
"I know." She reached out and started to flip through the book of designs that lay on the counter. "What do you think?"  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Should I get a tattoo?" He laughed.  
  
"They're quite nice," he commented, looking over her shoulder. She flipped past the first few pages of butterflies. "What, you took me seriously? No fanciful butterfly for you?"  
  
"I can't see myself having one, no," she said, elbowing him in the stomach. "Besides, who would want that on their body for the rest of their life?"  
  
Elliot looked away from her. "I have no idea."  
  
He could see her examining his profile out of the corner of his eye. "What?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'what?'" he asked, hoping his expression was neutral enough.  
  
She looked like she was going to pursue it again--he'd had a hard enough time resisting her in the car earlier--but they were interrupted by the arrival of a man who could only be Tony, their artist-informant. He still had his signature military buzz cut, although his somewhat ample girth spoke of many years out of the service.  
  
"You the guy I talked to on the phone?" he asked, his voice thick with the accent of New York.  
  
"No," Elliot said. "I'm Detective Stabler; this is my partner Detective Benson."  
  
"Okay," Tony said agreeably as he placed a small box on the counter. "This is an empty box we get ink shipped to us in. I told him one of my guys would be running it over after six o'clock when we close up so you guys got plenty of time. If you got anybody that has tats or anything it'd probably be best to send them in first as my guy."  
  
"I got a couple," Elliot said, grinning. He rolled up his right sleeve to show him his Marine Corps tattoo. Tony grinned back at him.  
  
"How long of a stint?" he asked.  
  
"Only three years," Elliot answered. "Came back and went to school, then the academy. You?"  
  
"Nine," Tony said. "Busted my leg in combat, got an honorable discharge and opened this place. You catch this freak, ya hear?"  
  
"I hear," Elliot said. He reached out and clasped the other man's hand. "Thanks for all your help."  
  
- 530 West 3rd Street -  
  
- 6:24pm -  
  
Elliot frowned as he pulled the black tank top he was wearing down, trying to straighten it out. He glanced down the hall and turned back to Olivia and Cragen who stood next to him. He thought for a second that Olivia had been staring at him, but she handed him the empty box. He grabbed it and flexed his arm muscles, stretching them above his head.  
  
"Okay," he said, turning around. "My gun secure?"  
  
He looked over his shoulder at Olivia, who was giving off the distinct impression that she was looking instead at his ass as she bit her lower lip. He grinned as she grabbed his gun in its holster and shook it slightly. "You're good to go," she said as he tugged at the sides of his jeans with his free hand.  
  
"So do I look the part?" he asked. They both looked him up and down and Olivia smiled at him, her eyebrows raising slightly.  
  
"You look like a burnout pushing middle age," she said. He glanced down at the crucifixion tattoo that covered his upper left arm.  
  
"A Christian middle aged burnout," he corrected. He hefted his right arm in the air. "With a military past."  
  
"Right," she said. "You be careful."  
  
"We're right behind you, Elliot," Cragen said, nodding in the direction of the six uniformed cops behind him. Elliot nodded his head as he started to walk down the hall. He knew Munch and Fin had taken up position in the alley outside in case Marcus caught on and decided to bolt. From all indications he didn't have a gun or any other kind of weapon. It should be a piece of cake. Didn't mean he wouldn't be any less careful.  
  
He stopped in front of apartment 45 and looked back at Liv down the hall. Their eyes connected for a moment and he gave her a reassuring half smile. She had her gun out like everyone else, but still managed to look worried. He took a deep breath and knocked.  
  
He held the empty box in his left hand and he shifted on his feet so his tattoo could be seen through the peephole. He stared down the hallway towards the rest of the team, acting as indifferently as he could manage. Adrenaline started to kick in when he heard scuffling noise behind the door.  
  
"Who is it?" a male voice asked. Elliot raised his right arm to scratch absently at his hair before answering.  
  
"Tony sent me with a delivery," he said. He turned to face the door and held up the box. "I've got some ink here for you."  
  
"Just leave it in front of the door," the man said through the door.  
  
"Sorry, can't." Elliot shrugged as he looked directly into the peephole. "Tony only does direct deliveries, right into your hands. He's not supposed to be doing this in the first place. Either I give it to you or I leave with it. He's already got your money; makes no difference to him."  
  
"Hang on a second." Elliot could hear the clack of locks being undone and he squeezed his right hand, loosening the muscles as he prepared to go for his gun. The other cops had already started to creep silently down the hall.  
  
The door opened a crack and a man who looked exactly like Alexander Marcus peered out from behind it. He shoved his hand out and said "Give it here."  
  
"Bobby Marcus?" Elliot asked. The man looked confused for a second.  
  
"How'd you know that?"  
  
"Just a guess," Elliot said, shrugging. His tightly coiled muscles exploded into action as he raised his foot and kicked the door inward, simultaneously whipping his gun out from his back. "New York City Police. Don't move."  
  
Marcus stared dumbly up as police swarmed into his apartment. He'd been knocked on his butt by the force of Elliot's kick and he put up no resistance as Elliot flipped him over and snapped handcuffs into place.  
  
"You are under arrest for the rape of Cassandra Bentley, the kidnapping, assault, and rape of Sheila Connors, the kidnapping, assault, and rape of Andrea Grant, and the kidnapping, assault, and rape of Demora Hughes," he said as he hauled him to his feet. "You want to Mirandize him, Liv?" he asked his partner, who'd stopped next to him. The rest of the police were already searching the apartment.  
  
"My pleasure, Elliot," she said as they led him out of the apartment.  
  
[tbc] 


	7. chapter seven

title: possession - chapter seven  
  
author: duck...a meenesotan duck, doncha know...kawaaaack. say it aloud....or i guess you had to be there to think that's funny. oi.  
  
rating: pg-13, like chris carter's production company, except with p and g instead of ten  
  
author note: i made this [incredibly shippy chapter]!  
  
disclaimer: i didn't make the show though.  
  
- Friday September 3rd 5:49pm -  
  
Olivia took a quick look at her watch and groaned. Elliot's appointment to sign the divorce papers had been at four and she'd promised him dinner and drinks afterwards. She glared at the abysmal failure that was her dinner plans and groaned again. Somehow she'd never quite gotten the hang of cooking and now all she could deliver on was her promise of getting him incredibly trashed afterwards.  
  
"Deliver," she said thoughtfully to the empty kitchen. Now there was a possibility. She felt bad as she picked up the phone to dial Luigi's down on the corner. She'd promised him a good home-cooked meal and he was going to get pizza. But then again he'd laughed at her when she'd said she'd cook. Stupid idiot. He was getting what he deserved.  
  
No, he was getting a divorce, which wasn't quite what he deserved. Olivia sighed as the phone rang through. Elliot hadn't really talked much about their reasons for it. He'd just said that Kathy had had enough of him never being there and Olivia had accepted that at face value. She knew there was probably more to it than that, but she hadn't wanted to push him when he clearly didn't want to talk about it yet.  
  
She tossed the smoking remains of chicken into the trash as she placed an order for a large pepperoni and sausage. Fifteen minutes and she'd have dinner. God but she loved New York.  
  
-----  
  
Elliot stopped outside the door to the apartment he'd been sharing with his partner for the last four months. He had his keys out, but he didn't put them in the lock. Instead he rested his forehead on the wood of the door and took in a deep breath.  
  
He'd just signed off on the last twenty years of his life as if they hadn't meant anything to him. In the rush and hell-bent fury of the case the past week the only reminder he'd had it coming was a few days ago when Liv had asked him about it. He'd spent all morning doing paperwork to finish up their side of the deal as Alex stepped in and smoothly took over, getting everything ready for prosecution. It had been a tortured morning of being stuck at his desk, the only thing he'd been able to think about was his impending appointment.  
  
It had been not enough warning and an excruciating eternity all at once.  
  
Kathy had been there and they'd looked over everything, made sure everything was properly settled. And they'd signed the papers and closed a huge era of his life. They'd hugged afterwards; it was after all a rather amicable event, not at all what he'd expected from a divorce. They were supposed to be bitter and angry, not peaceable and happy with the situation.  
  
Happy. It wasn't quite the term he would have thought he'd apply to it. He stared at the ring on his finger. He could take it off now. The thing it symbolized was over and dead. He slowly slid it off and it clanked against his keys. The bare swath of skin on his finger seemed to glare in the light and he stared at it for a few moments, contemplating what his life had become.  
  
He could now say he was the divorced father of four who worked till all hours at an emotionally burdening job and lived with his female partner in a completely platonic situation. He'd rather it not be platonic of course, which only complicated matters. And he kept getting the feeling that maybe she wanted more too. The looks, the glances. Hell today she blatantly checked his ass out. Not that he knew why. She was a gorgeous woman who could have had a guy like Danny Adler.  
  
But she was still displaying interest, and that bare spot on his ring finger meant he was completely able to do something about it for the first time in the six years he'd known her. He stuck the ring in his pocket, the keys in the door, and prayed this evening went the way he hoped it would.  
  
-----  
  
The instant Elliot closed the door behind him the smell of pizza hit him. Smelled like a whole lot of meat too. He laughed. "I told you you'd fail at it, Benson!" he called out, knowing the apartment was too small for her not to hear him.  
  
Sure enough her head popped out from the kitchen. "Shove it, Stabler."  
  
"What happened to the chicken?" he asked, grinning as he walked towards her.  
  
She crossed her arms and glared at him. "It took a flying leap into the trash can. I tried to talk it off the ledge, but it decided it was its time to go."  
  
"Uh-huh," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "Your trash can's under the sink."  
  
"Right."  
  
They engaged in a staring battle for a moment before she finally broke away and grimaced. "The fire department would have declared it at least a three alarm blaze."  
  
"Glad I wasn't here," he said as he sniffed the air. There was a distinctive odor of burnt chicken underneath the delicious aroma of fresh pizza. "Luigi's?"  
  
"Would I order pizza from anywhere else?"  
  
"Nope." He investigated the box further, pulling up the lid. "Mmm, pepperoni and sausage. You sure know how to treat a guy, Liv. There beer too?"  
  
"No. Well, there's still some stuff in the fridge," she amended. "But I bought a couple bottles of wine."  
  
"Ah, going for the classy stuff? Celebrate in style." He turned to face her and realized she was watching him closely.  
  
"Is it a celebration?"  
  
He thought about it for a moment. "Yes. It's the end of a major part of my life. I'd rather celebrate it than mourn its passage."  
  
"You're awfully chipper for a guy who was served with divorce papers." She moved to grab two plates from the cabinet.  
  
"Honestly Liv, I'd been thinking about talking to Kathy about it for a while. She just beat me to it." He pulled a couple pieces from the pie and put them on the plates she set down next to the box. "And the Catholic in me is glad she started it, not me."  
  
"Well if you need to talk about it..." she offered, not finishing the sentence. He smiled at her as he handed her a plate.  
  
"No, I don't think I do. It just feels right. Kathy and I still love each other, but only as the parents of the same children. It was time to move on and we both knew it." He sat at the table as she went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white wine.  
  
"Then let's toast to it," she said, putting the bottle on the counter.  
  
"Want me to--"  
  
"I can get it," she interrupted. He grinned at her stubborn streak of independence. No, Olivia Benson didn't need anyone to pull the cork out of a bottle of wine for her and he probably should have known better than to ask.  
  
He watched her silently as she twisted the corkscrew in, then pulled it out almost effortlessly. The way the muscles in her arms bulged as she pulled only contrasted with the delicate way she poured it and he openly stared, his chin in his hand. How he had managed to ignore his fascination with her before he had no idea. Did all divorced men feel this way the instant they'd taken their rings off for good? It was a thoroughly liberating experience.  
  
She placed a glass in front of him and raised her own. "To..." she trailed off.  
  
He smiled as he lifted his. "To every ending instead being a beginning." Not that *that* was cheesy or anything, he admonished himself. Liv seemed to like it, however, and she clinked her glass against his.  
  
"Cheers."  
  
-----  
  
Two hours later they'd demolished the pizza and a bottle and a half of wine between the two of them. Elliot grabbed the bottle that was left and suggested they move to the living room. Olivia quickly agreed; the kitchen chairs were getting uncomfortable after all, and they hadn't danced in the living room since Sunday night.  
  
She soon found himself settled comfortably on the couch next to her mildly inebriated partner. Their usual music floated out of the speakers. "So," he said, grinning sloppily at her. "Come to a decision on trying to collect on the pool yet?"  
  
"I already told you," she pronounced carefully the way drunk people tend to do. "We're not going to even try."  
  
"Fine," he said, standing and holding out his hand. "Shall we dance?"  
  
"Haven't done that in a while," she said, taking his hand. He pulled her up and she immediately let herself fall into him. They embraced tightly and she knew they'd both had too much alcohol to try any of their more intricate dances.  
  
Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and she rested her chin on his shoulder. She savored the feeling of being held by strong arms around her waist. He tilted his head to rest against hers and they swayed gently to the music.  
  
"Mmm," she mumbled in the back of her throat.  
  
"What?" he whispered in her ear. A shiver that started in her toes ran through her entire body at the feeling of his breath on her ear. Where the hell was this going?  
  
"This is nice."  
  
"Much better than running down criminals," he agreed. This felt so different from any other time they'd dance. They'd danced drunk before, so that certainly wasn't it. It had just never felt so...she searched to put a name to the feeling. Intimate. It never felt so intimate before.  
  
She could feel his head moving as he turned to rest his nose against her cheek. "Liv?"  
  
"Mmm?" She only had to move a few inches to look him in the eye. Those beautiful light blue eyes of his. Eyes she could lose herself in if she weren't careful. Who wanted to be careful? This felt so right and good.  
  
It felt so right when he covered her lips with his own, kissing her delicately. She'd never felt such a feather light touch before and her eyes slid shut with the pleasure of it. She didn't question the feelings, losing herself in the music and his perfect mouth. The kiss deepened, but he broke off and began to plant kisses down the line of her jaw.  
  
She groaned and all pretense of dancing was lost as he brought a hand up to gently cup the back of her head. He lavished his love on the soft area behind her ear and she moved to recapture his lips with hers. She slid both hands up his neck, up to cradle the sides of his face. She could feel the crescendo of the music as he slid his tongue inside her mouth, deepening his intensity without any sort of heavy action.  
  
Almost immediately he pulled back, leaving a dizzying sense of incompletion behind. Just as quickly he was kissing her throat, working his way down to the open collar of her shirt. Her hands skimmed around to the back of his neck as she threw her head back, giving him easier access. Whatever God may be out there, she thought to herself, thank you for creating a man so skilled at the art of seduction.  
  
He was moving back up to her mouth when the song stopped. They were left staring at each other in the silence and in an instant all her common sense came rushing painfully back. Oh God, what were they doing?  
  
"Elliot," she said, her voice no more than an exhalation. "We can't..."  
  
He groaned as he let her go. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, Liv."  
  
"No, not sorry," she insisted. Not sorry at all. "Just not now."  
  
He slithered bonelessly to the couch, his hands over his face. "What was I thinking?" he mumbled through them.  
  
She curled up next to him and was grateful for the arm he put around her. "That it was good," she said, smiling slightly.  
  
"Yeah," he admitted, his other arm coming around her to complete the hug.  
  
"We just can't do this right now," she sighed. "Not on the day of your divorce."  
  
"And not while we're still partners?"  
  
"I never said that." This was the hardest thing she'd ever had to force herself to do. Her body was screaming at her to accept his seduction; to grab him by the hand and run for the bedroom. Her mind kept repeating over and over than it wasn't a good idea. Ultimately she had to listen to her mind. "We can wait, Elliot. Let's not rush into anything."  
  
"Can we just clear a couple things up?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"I'm probably in love with you." Oh, well that explained a couple things. Like why he couldn't stand to see another guy within ten feet of her unless it was Munch or Fin or the captain. It also gave her a great deal of pleasure.  
  
"Probably yes," she agreed. "And the same probably goes for me too."  
  
"So we've got a whole lot of probables, huh?" he asked. "This is more complicated than any math class I've ever been in."  
  
She chuckled into his chest, glad for the residual alcohol-induced tingle. "Let's not complicate it any worse than it needs to be."  
  
"Right, so for now I just resist all my urges to throw you over my shoulder and demonstrate my caveman tendencies?"  
  
"Pretty much." She felt a wave of sleepiness pull at her eyelids. "I'm going to fall sleep right here, Elliot. Can you hold me for a while?"  
  
"Absolutely. I've got six years to make up for."  
  
"Are you sure you're okay with this?"  
  
"I wouldn't have said yes if I weren't."  
  
She snuggled deeper into his chest and smiled as she let herself drift off to a peaceful sleep. They could deal with the particulars when they were sober, but this was definitely something she could get used to.  
  
[end]  
  
mmm, i love the shippiness. but i love the angst too, so consider yourself warned for the next one. 


End file.
